The Widow's Web
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: The Black Family holds more secrets and surprises than anyone could ever imagine; this web of purity that dates so far back, with such elegant lines of purity in our blood. Even though the strings that break are disposed of, our secrets are still ours to hide. - A collection of oneshots/drabbles, relating to each member of the Black Family, starting with the earliest recorded.
1. Licorus - Sexual Secrets

A.N: This will be a series of oneshots and drabbles, each one specific to every listed member of the Black Family (that is, members born with the Black family name and women married into the Black family, not the non-Black husbands as well or I'd be here forever). Starting with the oldest and ending with the youngest (or, approximately, as some birthdates are unknown.)

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**Licorus Black**

Like the rest of my family, I had been sorted into Slytherin House when I was sent to Hogwarts in the year 1819. However, it wasn't my fellow Slytherins that I ultimately befriended.

I despised the way the other Slytherins treated me; like I was some kind of royal. I had grown up listening to my delinquent father telling me things like that; that the only house worthy of me was Slytherin, and "Licorus, if you dare to taint our family honour with traitors or impurities, you will be disowned without further ado." Of course, I agreed with him on some level, I _do _think that pure-blood should be supreme, but I still didn't think that people needed to worship me.

Frankly, I hated the attention.

So, it wasn't much of a surprise to me when I found myself sitting next to a white-blonde Hufflepuff boy in Transfiguration class, aptly named Xavier Rastrick. He was an unusual boy, who sat alone most of the time, usually in the library, reading.

Xavier and I became fast friends, much to the disgust of my father, when I told him during the summer holidays, after my first year at Hogwarts.

"I was in the same year as Xavier Rastrick's father," he sneered, curling his moustache around his finger. "He was named Xavier, too. Awful fellow, he was."

"Why, Father?" I demanded to know. "I personally find Xavier quite entertaining, and he speaks nothing but highly of his father. He's an entertainer, you know, performs magic tricks for muggles."

"Ha!" Mr Black scoffed. "Have you heard yourself, boy, spouting off tripe like that? You will be joining your beloved friend I assume, in his fathers…_Freak Show_!" He spat the last two words, glaring nastily at his me. "No. You will stop this nonsense at once – you're not to be friends with that…_lunatic_. When you go back to school, you will break off this…friendship…with the Rastrick brat, and start interacting with someone a little more appropriate," Mr Black reached towards the astray, situated on a small table near his chair, and withdrew a fat, smoking cigar. He took a long drag, and breathed out slowly. "The Malfoys have children at Hogwarts, I assume."

"I hate those pretentious Malfoys," I murmured, more to myself than to Father.

But nonetheless, when I returned to Hogwarts for my second year, I swiftly avoided the beaming, innocent face of Xavier. I spent a week dodging him in corridors, classrooms and the library, but I was unlucky when Transfiguration rolled around, and I was once again, placed next to Xavier for a second year.

Xavier edged up as close as he could get to me, and whispered softly; "Have I done something to upset you, Licorus?"

I stared firmly forwards, my dark eyes focused on the lesson ahead. Xavier nudged me sharply, with his pointy elbow, making me flinch and glare at him. "No!" I hissed in response. "Just leave me alone, Xavier."

So Xavier did just that. He shrunk back from me, and tried to mask the look of hurt that washed over his watery blue eyes, but I caught it. It made my heart sting, at the pain I was obviously causing my friend, but there was nothing I could do. Inwardly, I cursed my stupid bloodline, and my stupid father, and his stupid fathers before him, for making the ridiculous, unspoken rules about blood purity.

For years, I had nothing to do with Xavier. I did as Father wished, and made friends with the other pure-blood Slytherins; with family names such as Bulstrode, Yaxley, and of course, Malfoy. By my seventh year, I had a whole gang of new friends that my father was pleased of, but I still always thought of Xavier. From afar, I watched my old friend grow into a strong young man. His childhood innocence seemed to fade as his clock ticked, and by his seventh year he was tanned, muscly from playing as a Chaser in the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, his hair was no longer the colour and texture of duckling fluff, more like soft, golden waves surrounding his face in a halo.

Every day, I regretted that I hadn't stood up to my father. My feelings of attraction to Xavier were impure; and I knew what the x-rated dreams I had during the night meant. I tried to push aside the swell of jealousy that rose in my chest when I saw that Xavier had started to court with my little sister, Phoebe (much to the dislike of their father). He told her he liked her pretty blue eyes, but he wasn't aware of the amount of spells that were placed on her eyes, after a previous accident…

There was nothing I could do, now. My story was just the first thread of the web – of generations and generations of pain, suffering, and impurity – all thanks to my _desirable_ bloodline.


	2. Magenta - An Intellectual Beard

**ii**

**Magenta Black (née Tripe)**

Rising as the matriarch of the House of Black wasn't what I had in mind for life.

In fact, I wasn't sure _what _I had in mind for my life. I wanted to travel; wanted to see the world and make something of my life. But when I was sixteen, my mother told me that I was betrothed to the eldest member of the Black clan, and I would marry him in the winter. "Oh, Magenta. He's a lovely young boy…very well groomed, I've heard."

I cried and cried, for hours, days, weeks. Deep down, I guessed that this would happen – I was doomed to live my life as my mother had; nothing but an empty, waiting womb, who would spend my next few decades of fertile life bearing proud and precious heirs. But I didn't expect that the one I would marry would be _Licorus Black_.

Secrets flew around Hogwarts about Licorus. No one would dare say anything to his face, of course, judging from the clan he came from, but it was definitely on the minds of his peers. Licorus liked boys, namely, Licorus liked Xavier.

I never really thought about Licorus; much less about his sexual preferences.

But I couldn't help but wonder about his sexuality when I was stood at the altar, facing my dearly beloved. Licorus leaned forward to present the sealing kiss, angling his lips slightly at the end so that they only touched the corner of my mouth. I saw his eyes dart to the left of me, and when I followed his gaze, he was looking at the blonde boy, seated a few rows back, his arm thrown around Phoebe.

At the reception service, my eyes welled up with tears when Licorus read out his marriage speech. I allowed all of our relatives and friends to believe that I was sobbing with happiness, but it was a bitter lie.

I was crying because I knew that this was the end of my life. I would live out the rest of my days as nothing but Licorus' beard; subtly hiding the fact that my husband was actually gay.


	3. Hesper - The Lesser Twin

**iii**

**Hesper Black**

I am the twin sister of Licorus, and I always hoped and prayed that one day I would rise and be as beautiful and intelligent as my brother.

Licorus was always the more valued sibling. Even though he was just a few minutes older than me, he was always more appreciated, from the moment he burst out of the womb. Father scooped baby Licorus up into his arms, his eyes flooded with tears – a son! His first born was a _son_, a truly worthy heir of the main branch of his clan. He swept the baby boy away in his arms, leaving me behind with our mother – a pathetic woman, who had never even been to school; she was simply taught basic skills at home. The only spells she could do were ones that centred on cooking and cleaning.

Licorus got to go to the Quidditch World Tournament, and when I begged to come along, Father stiffly told me that "sports are not for young ladies, Hesper." Licorus was given private lessons on magic by Father, in the secretive lair of his study, but when I pleaded with Father to be taught something, he sneered, rolled his eyes, and told me to run along to the kitchen.

It was tragic, but I would never get to be as great as a man, in my father's eyes. It was Mother who begged that Phoebe, Alexia-Walkin, and I should be allowed to go to Hogwarts and get an education.

Forever being second best to Licorus left me with a lonely life. I forever lost interest in men or ever having children – who knew what kind of a husband or son I could gain?


	4. Alexia-Walkin - A Little Bit of Crazy

**iv**

**Alexia-Walkin Black**

Tick, tock.

I was eleven years old, and ten minutes away from death.

Tick, tock.

I flicked my marbles across the smooth wooden floor of my bedroom in Grimmauld Place. My head was brimming with thoughts; each one central to Phoebe's blue, blue eyes. I loved blue. One marble; small and green on the inside. The next marble; a little bigger than the first, with a red ribbon at its core. The third marble…

The third marble wasn't hard and heavy. It was soft, slightly squishy.

Tick, tock.

I laughed shrilly, a sound I didn't know I could make – five minutes.

Tick, tock.

I retrieved the matching marble to the third. Two marbles, white and streaked with red, but one side of each was slightly flat. Two bright, sapphire eyes, gazing up at me in horror.

A scream. Mother, her voice laced with pain. She'd discovered Phoebe.

Tick, tock. Three minutes to go.

The scream turned to shouts, blurred words and angry yells. Then my door flew open; Mother stood there in the entrance, her face streaked with tears and her mouth hanging open. She snatched the eyes out of my hand, and stared down at them in shock. "Alexia, what on earth have you done?" she cried out, her voice shaking. I smiled.

Tick, tock.

The next thing I knew, my mother was upon me, that piercing scream ripping from her throat again. She had grabbed a cushion from the bed, and within seconds, she was pressing it down on my face. I took one last gasp before my mouth and nostrils were filled with the musty cloth, slowly suffocating me.

But I didn't make any noise, and I didn't struggle. As Mother bitterly smothered the life out of me, I was happy. It was finally ending.

I was finally free.


	5. Phoebe - Sapphire Blue

**v**

**Phoebe Black**

To everyone around me; I was the starlet of the Black family. Everyone said I was the picture of feminine beauty, with long, thick black hair that fell like a glimmering onyx waterfall down my back and around my shoulders. My eyes; unlike my parents and siblings, were the shade of the brightest, newest sapphires.

It was unheard of that a member of the Black family would have blue eyes, and I constantly felt the pressure of that, even though no one really had anything bad to say about it. My mother and father praised my mesmerising good looks; my pale, porcelain white skin, slender limbs and waspy waist, the long eyelashes that framed my unusual eyes. Father said I was named for the Moon Goddess, as I shined brighter than the brightest star.

Hesper was admittedly envious; she hadn't been graced with such good looks. She had the typical dark hair, pale complexion and black eyes of her family. But Hesper's hair never grew past her neck, despite constantly trying to grow it out, and hung like lank, sad tendrils. Her colouring wasn't pale in a doll-like way, as mine was, but sicklier, sheet white. Her skin was paper thin, every vein visible on her arms, neck and legs. She wasn't sender and tall; quite the opposite. She was short; squat, and looked more like our mothers podgy sister. However, Hesper had more pressing worries than being jealous of me – she spent more of her time being envious of the attention that Licorus was getting from our father.

It was Alexia-Walkin that I should have been worried about.

Alexia never spoke. She isolated herself all day; every day. She was the sibling who discovered her magical ability the youngest; having caused the house-elf to soar through the air with his tea-tray, when he was heading to the dining room. She was four years old when she first unwillingly cast this spell, and thus became another child for Father to be proud of.

But something was missing in Alexia, and I felt like she was the only one who could see this. There was emptiness in her eyes; a strange, manic way she looked at me. She always stared at me, making me wary and uncomfortable of her.

Most nights, Alexia would lurk outside my bedroom, waiting for me to fall asleep. More often than not, I would wake up to find my sister hovering by my bed, doing nothing but smiling in the darkness. I wondered if, like Hesper, Alexia was jealous of me, and her creepy manner was reason for this. However, I didn't quite believe this. Alexia looked very similar to me, with the same pale skin, pouty mouth and long hair. The only difference was her eyes, which were as black as tar.

The realisation hit me that fateful night, when I opened her eyes in the night to see Alexia, as usual, stood next to my bedside in her white nightgown. She looked like a ghost, and I was about to tell her to go away, when I noticed that she had a melon baller in her left hand.

"What have you got there—oh my!"

I didn't get to finish her sentence, because suddenly, Alexia was on top of me, pinning my head back. In my groggy, half-asleep state, I didn't have the energy to push her off, and when I managed to regain some strength, it was already too late. Alexia had plunged the melon baller into my lower left eyelid, and effortlessly scooped out my eyeball.

Of course I shrieked. The pain was undeniable, and I passed out before Alexia got to my second eye.

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><p>When I awoke, the world was dark. I was sure I was dead, but my mother's voice came to me, through my sightless state. "Phoebe, darling?" Her voice was full, like she had been crying for hours.<p>

"Mother…Alexis, she…"

"Now, now, there's no need to worry about that."

"Am I blind, Mother?"

My mother sighed. "For now, my darling. But you are in the hospital, and the young Healer is going to fix you up, good as new."

I allowed herself to drift back to sleep, with my mother's hand in mine. When I recovered, I would never learn of the true fate of my younger sister.


	6. Eduardus-Limette - Brotherly Love

**vi**

**Eduardus Limette Black**

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><p>I was the only one cared about Alexis.<p>

It was evident that Alexis wasn't normally from being born. She never cried, never, not once, not even as a baby. Mother always chimed on about how noisy the rest of us; especially Phoebe, who had enough power behind her lungs to light up the Ministry of Magic.

But not Alexis. Alexis was silent from minute she slithered out of the womb.

She didn't really talk to anyone, just stared at them with her expressive eyes. It was only me that she spoke to when she did, and even then nothing ever made sense.

I knew she had always been obsessed with Phoebe and her eyes. She liked everything in order; she didn't like something to be the odd thing out. We were all dark haired, dark eyed and pale skinned. Phoebe was dark haired, blue eyed and pale skinned. She thought it was a mistake in the making of us all; and that mistake had to be fixed. It wasn't a surprise that Alexis went as far as to scoop her older sister's eyes out, though. Alexis had done worse.

She committed her first murder when she was just six years old. The house-elf, who she consistently teased after she discovered she was able to do magic – that house-elf was discovered in the kitchen cupboard with a pair of scissors rammed between the shoulder blades.

But I truly didn't expect Mother to _kill _Alexis.

I was so angry when I discovered her body; wrapped in a grey blanket and presented on the dining room table, as if her carcass was a trophy. No one was around; they were all focusing on Phoebe, precious Phoebe, trying to fix her beautiful pretty eyes and make them go back into her sockets.

I was being a little harsh to Phoebe, maybe so. It wasn't her fault she was born different, just like it wasn't Alexis' fault that she was born with her unusual mannerisms. But I loved Alexis the most out of all of my siblings.

Licorus was too busy to have an interest in me, even though he was my only brother. Father spent all of his time with him, teaching him, praising him, and trying to make him into the greatest little Black wizard that the world would see. Hesper, while she was always nice to me, was always trailing around after Licorus and our father, trying to prove that she was just as good as her twin. Phoebe spent most of her time shut up in her bedroom. Alexis was the only one who I could talk to, even though she never spoke back. And I knew she loved me the most.

So I couldn't just stand by when I found out what happened to my little sister. Hesper told me, in hushed tones, what had been the cause of her death, and I couldn't bear it. I flew into an unholy rage, and charged into Phoebe's bedroom. Mother was stooped over Phoebe's limp body, feeding her potion with a metal spoon, and there was a bloody rag tied around her face where her eyes should be.

I dragged Mother back by her long, grey-streaked hair, and balled my hands into fists. I commenced to punch her in the face, over and over again, until my knuckles were splattered red, and stronger arms were dragging me away. I turned around, the scarlet haze over my vision fading, and Father loomed into view. He was the last thing I saw of my family, as he raised his own fist, and shattered my cheekbone.

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><p>When I awoke, I wasn't in my own bed.<p>

It took me only a few hours to learn what had happened. Mother and Father had unceremoniously shipped me off to an orphanage. I had been presented only as 'Eduardus Limette', instead of 'Eduardus Limette Black', so it was apparent I wasn't even worthy of my family name anymore.

What I expected to feel was pain; sorrow at being abjured from my bloodline. But I was surprised to feel nothing for the rest of my family, just chronic emptiness at the loss of my sister.

I may have been the first Black to be disowned, but I was sure mine wasn't the first or the last secret that would echo through the halls of Grimmauld Place.

oOo


End file.
